by Carol Durand
“None that we can find…yet,” Keller sounded determined.
“Okay, so if the ex-employee killed Sid, what about the other victim – the homeless youth?” Beckett frowned, trying to connect the dots.
“You’re not going to believe this one…the kid was Bowden’s son. He was homeless because the old man kicked him out after he graduated. Told him if he couldn’t pay his own food and rent, he was on his own.”
“Sounds like a swell guy,” Chas shook his head in disgust. “But there’s a huge leap from kicking someone out to eliminating them entirely. What reason could he possibly have to kill his own kid?”
“Who knows? Embarrassed maybe. We’re checking it out,” Keller shrugged.
“Alibi?”
“We’ll see. We’re bringing him in now. Hopefully he just confesses and saves us the trouble of a full investigation.”
Chas stood to go. “Good luck with that,” he said, extending his hand. Keller shook it and he headed for the door, deep in thought. His extensive experience in law enforcement had taught him that the right solution to any situation was rarely an easy one. If something seemed too good to be true, it generally was. While he wanted to believe that Roger Bowden was the murderer, leaving Missy and Echo in the clear, Keller didn’t have any evidence to back up his suspicions. The suspect hadn’t even been interviewed yet, meaning he could possibly have a viable alibi, and Chas knew from experience that there had to be an extremely powerful motive for someone to kill their offspring. While Bowden’s guilt was certainly possible, there were still too many unanswered questions for Beckett to reach any reliable conclusions. He’d continue his course of investigating ‘under the radar’ until he was shown evidence to substantiate Keller’s suspicions.
Missy was excited to learn that she would be released to go home in the morning, and was sitting up in bed, thumbing through an interior decorating magazine, when she heard a bit of a commotion in the hallway outside her door, followed by Chas’s voice saying, “Official police business.” The door to her room opened, and tears sprung to her eyes when she saw Chas come in, holding the leash of a very excited Toffee.
“You actually did it!” she exclaimed, surprised that he had taken her whispered request seriously.
“Anything to assist in the recovery process,” he grinned, leading the ecstatic golden to her owner’s side. Toffee delicately placed her front paws on the side of the bed, leaning in to give Missy a series of sloppy kisses, making her giggle with glee. Once the dog had settled onto the bed between Missy’s knees, Chas brought her up to speed on his conversation with Keller, cautioning her not to get her hopes up.
“But…the fact that they don’t suspect Echo or me any longer is a good thing right?” she asked Chas, confused by his caution.
“Well, yes and no,” he sighed. “It’s good that the focus has shifted away from you and Echo, because you didn’t commit the crimes, but I fear that they may be looking in the wrong direction for their suspect, and if their theory collapses into nothing, we may find ourselves back at square one.”
Missy frowned. “But if you don’t think that Roger Bowden did it, who did?”
“That’s what I intend to find out,” he assured her. “But for now, I’m going to take this furry friend back to my house for her dinner and a long walk. Call me when they spring you?” he asked, snapping on Toffee’s leash and heading for the door.
“Definitely,” she nodded. “And, Chas,” she called after him.
“Yeah?” he asked, turning quickly.
“Thanks,” she smiled gratefully.
“Anytime, fair maiden,” he winked and went out the door.
Chapter 7
Now that Missy’s Crème de la Cupcake, and Sweet Love, Echo’s shop, were both open for business again, Missy had made a habit of starting her day in LaChance, making all of her deliveries during the afternoon, closing up in Dellville, and heading across the street to Echo’s at the end of the day for ‘ice cream’ and conversation. It was nice to know that she could chat with her friend daily again, particularly during those times when her spoiled little sister was out doing other things, rather than honing in on their conversation and making snide remarks. Missy had really grown to dislike the young woman, but was trying her hardest to be understanding. In her experience, when someone was that nasty to others, it was generally because they faced challenges in their own lives that overwhelmed them, so she was typically able to draw largely from her reserves of sympathy rather than feeling animosity, but Safflower really ‘pushed her buttons’ as her mother used to say.
It had been a long day, and Missy could just taste the sweet creaminess of Echo’s Vanilla Bean Rice Dream as she made her way across the street to Sweet Love. It was difficult to keep the disappointment from her face when she walked in and saw Safflower slumped ungracefully across two dining chairs, occupying an entire table while she played games on her phone. Donna, Echo’s helper was behind the counter, and greeted Missy with her usual charm when she came in.
“Hi Ms. G.!” the girl sang out cheerfully. “The usual?” she asked, grabbing a metal scoop.
“Yes, please, Donna, and throw some caramel and coconut on top for good measure,” Missy responded, her mouth watering. She was thankful that Toffee gave her a vigorous workout twice a day, her ice cream habit might have an adverse effect on her figure if she didn’t. The happy teenager handed her the delightful sundae, refusing payment, as instructed by Echo, and told her that her friend was in the back, inventing new recipes. Missy backed through the swinging doors leading to the kitchen, her mouth full of vegan goodness, and went to find Echo, dismayed to see that her sister had elected to follow.
“Hey girl!” she called out, seeing Echo carefully measuring a red powder and sifting it into a bowl.
“Missy! I see you’ve run into Donna,” she teased, glancing at the decadent treat in her friend’s hands.
“Every day!” she returned, savoring another spoonful. “Y’all are gonna make me fat,” she accused playfully.
“Only if you let us,” was the friendly reply.
“What are you up to? That looks interesting,” she observed, peering into the bowl.
Safflower hoisted herself up onto the counter and snorted with derision. “I can’t believe people actually eat that alfalfa granola crap.”
Echo didn’t so much as pause in her activity to dignify her sister’s comment with a response. “I’m trying a Carob and Cayenne combination, I’ll let you try it in a few,” she said enthusiastically to Missy.
“Mmm…” was her friend’s response through a mouthful of sundae, as she cast a reproving glance in Safflower’s direction.
“Gross,” was the rude girl’s observation as she picked at her nails, resting her feet on the sterilized counter.
“Any news on the investigation?” Echo asked, continuing to ignore the ridiculous behavior.
Missy really didn’t want to talk about such a sensitive subject in front of “Sally Sour Puss,” but she didn’t really have a choice, so she answered anyway. “It’s not progressing very well, unfortunately. They questioned Bowden – he denied everything, and his alibi actually looks pretty good, so I don’t know what’s going to happen now,” she admitted, scooping up another bite.
“Deputy Dawg and his posse nabbed the wrong bad guy? What a shock,” Safflower drawled sarcastically.
Missy had been simmering since she arrived, and the latest comment shot her way past the boiling point. She set her bowl on the counter and turned to face Echo’s insolent sister, hands on hips. “Little girl, I don’t know what’s stuck in your craw, but I’m really beginning to wonder whether you ever have anything pleasant to say. This conversation doesn’t concern you. What I say to your sister isn’t any of your business, and if you don’t have something constructive to say, you might want to consider keeping that rude mouth shut,” she snapped, eyes flashing.
Echo’s hands flew to her mouth in surprise, her eyes darting back and forth betwee
n her incensed friend and her belligerent sibling. Safflower slowly lowered herself down from the counter and sashayed over to stand in front of Missy, thrusting her nose an inch from her sister’s angry friends.
“You don’t intimidate me, you hopeless hayseed,” she brazenly mocked Missy’s accent. “Just get one thing straight here, Miss Hick, I say what I want, whenever I want, to whoever I want, and I could care less what you think about it. Echo is my sister, so you just need to get over your little Southern self, and get out of my face,” she sneered.
Missy heard Echo gasp at Safflower’s rudeness, and was surprised when she didn’t correct her. Her eyes locked on Safflower’s, she didn’t give an inch as she addressed Echo, still nose to nose. “Darlin, I love your company, but let’s you and I talk when there are no petulant children around to listen.” She turned to give Echo a pointed look after that, saying, “Let me know when you have some time…and privacy.” With that, she relaxed her stance, ignoring the mocking antics of Echo’s sister, picked up her bowl, put it in the sink, and left the kitchen with one last scathing look at Safflower.
Missy was shaking with anger when she walked back across the street to her car. There had been very few times in her life when she’d had such a profoundly negative emotional reaction to a fellow human being, and she had to wonder just what it was about Safflower that stirred her up so much. Echo was such a loving, easygoing person, it was difficult to imagine that the two girls had sprung from the same gene pool. Missy suspected that the young woman was taking advantage of her sister’s kindness and hospitality, but when it came right down to it, that was none of her business. Sighing with frustration, she climbed into the overly warm interior of her car and drove home with the windows open for air, her soul and spirit relaxing as she put miles between herself and Safflower Willis.
Chapter 8
Missy dressed with care as she readied herself for a dinner date with Chas that would be their first since she had been released from the hospital. The charming detective had come by her shop in LaChance every day to check on her and sometimes share a Cupcake of the Day, but this was an actual date, and she was very much looking forward to it. She had bought a new dress for the occasion, and couldn’t wait to put it on. The dress was far more daring than her typical choices - it was a lovely shade of red, with a sweetheart neckline and a softly flared skirt. It made her feel young and beautiful and she hoped that Chas liked it as much as she did.
She artfully arranged her hair in a curly blonde bun which hid the patch of fluff that was still growing in after having been shaved for stitches, and wore dangly ruby tear-drop earrings that matched the dress perfectly. Eager for a bit of ‘girl time,’ earlier in the day, Missy had her nails done and bought a new shade of lipstick that she was a bit scared to try, never having worn a shade of red. She smoothed it on, rubbed her lips together, and then blotted them on a tissue, surveying the results, surprised to find that she liked the daring shade. Spritzing a delicate and expensive perfume lightly on her wrists and neck, she felt a bit like Cinderella preparing for the ball, and giggled at the thought.
Chas arrived promptly at 6:45 and his reaction more than validated all of the preparation that Missy had done. At the sight of her, his mouth dropped open in awe and surprise.
“Wow…you look absolutely beautiful,” he said softly, a slow smile spreading across his features. “I’m almost afraid to touch you.”
“Well, don’t be afraid of that!” Missy teased, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck for a kiss. The handsome Detective Beckett tugged at his tie as though to loosen it and vaguely muttered something about a dinner reservation, leading her out of the house after her kiss blew his mind entirely.
They arrived at Via Tuscana at precisely 7:00 and were seated in an intimately lit booth with tufted red velvet upholstery. Chas had pre-ordered their wine and appetizers, which were brought immediately.
“The décor suits you,” Chas observed, taking in the red of her dress, the sparkle of the rubies on her ears, the color of the wine and the candlelight glow warming her features.
“I’m sorry that I missed it the first time around,” she admitted, contrite at having totally forgotten their date the last time he had planned to take her here. “I’m sorry for a lot of things.”
“I have to admit, I was beginning to wonder whether trying to actually participate in a relationship had been a bad call on my part,” he confessed. “But when I saw you lying helpless in that hospital bed, I knew that I couldn’t have stayed away from you if I tried.” He reached across the table to take her hand. “So, I suggest that since we both seem to be pretty committed to the idea of seeing how this whole relationship thing works out, perhaps we should try to figure out how to work with our crazy schedules instead of letting them come between us.”
Missy nodded, her eyes filled with happy tears. “Yes, I’d like that,” replied, a warm thrill going through her as he brushed kisses across the back of her hand.
The waiter came with their appetizers just then, and talk turned to food for the moment, taking them into the main course and beyond. The couple sat back, full and satisfied, staring across the table at one another with soft, silly smiles.
“What’s your family like?” Missy asked, out of the blue, realizing that she knew very little about Chas Beckett’s background.
His face grew serious and he took a long sip of wine before responding. “What an odd question…why do you ask?”
“I just realized that, I know who you are now, but I know nothing about where you come from, what your parents are like, who you were as a kid – I’m interested, that’s all. Is that so bad?” she teased, not quite catching his mood.
“It’s not something that I like to talk about, actually,” he replied.
Missy’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” she blushed, reaching for her wine and feeling like a clumsy oaf.
“It’s okay, that’s just an area of my life that I like to keep to myself,” he explained, hoping she’d let it go at that.
“I understand,” she nodded, not understanding at all, but not wishing to pry. A part of her was hurt that he didn’t trust her enough to open up about his personal life, but she supposed that she could earn his trust eventually.
“What about you? What’s your family story?” he asked, glad to have the spotlight shifted in her direction.
“It’s rather grim, actually. My parents were killed in an accident when I was 17. That’s how I inherited the LaChance shop. I went to college while working full time and got my degree while still managing to stay in business. My baby sister died young, and I had no other family, so I’ve been on my own for quite some time. Fortunately I have dear friends and neighbors in this town, and Toffee has been quite a lifesaver too,” Missy admitted. “I seem to do well on my own. It’s not that I don’t like having other people around, it’s more that I’m content with my own company since I’ve been alone so much.”
Chas looked at her intently, admiring her even more in that moment. It all made so much sense now – her independence, her refusal to give up when things got difficult, her creative way of looking at a problem and solving it – she’d had to do that for a couple of decades now, and had evolved into a strong, passionate woman because of it. He felt incredibly lucky that a woman like Melissa Gladstone would even give him the time of day, and he intended to spend much more time making her feel special and appreciated.
“I’m content with your company too,” he grinned, running two fingers lightly up and down over the inside of her wrist. “I totally understand what you mean though,” he said, his mood becoming much more somber. “I’ll tell you sometime about my family and why I’ve made some of the choices that I have in my life, but suffice to say for the moment that, despite my challenges being different from yours, they’re challenges nonetheless.”
“I can deal with a man of mystery for a while,” Missy smiled brightly, trying not to shiver beneath his
touch.
They left the restaurant soon after, and Chas lingered, kissing her on the porch, for so long that she thought he might ask her if he could come in, but eventually, with a great deal of willpower, he drew back and said goodnight, leaving Missy waving dreamily from her doorway.
Missy had let Ben and Chris know that she would be at the LaChance store all day, baking a huge batch of assorted cupcakes for the parent-teacher meetings that night at the area elementary schools. Rather than trying out new flavors, she chose to prepare old favorites that kids and adults alike would appreciate. She had just delivered the last fragrant, delicious batch when her phone rang. Seeing Ben’s number on the screen, she picked up.
“Hi Ben, how was business today?” she asked cheerfully.
“Ms. G., I’m so sorry, but something bad happened. Can you come to the Dellville store right away?”
“Of course, Ben. What is it? Is everyone okay? Is someone hurt?” Missy worried.
“No, we’re fine, but we really need you to come down here as quickly as you can,” he reiterated, his voice sounding a bit thin.
“No problem, I’m on my way,” she replied, hitting the hang-up button. She was more than concerned, Ben never called for her to come in unless something had gone drastically wrong, and even then, he usually tried to handle sticky situations himself. Him dialing her number meant that somehow, he was in over his head, and that had her scared to death. She tried not to speed on the way to Dellville, but managed to make excellent time anyway, weaving through thinning after dinner traffic like a pro. When she rounded the corner of the street on which Crème de la Cupcake stood, she was dismayed to see two patrol cars out front, with blue and red lights color-washing the plate-glass front windows. What now??
Missy rushed into the shop, seeing Ben and Chris behind the counter, talking with Detective Richard Keller.
“Ms. Gladstone,” Keller greeted her. “Let me bring you up to speed on what’s been happening here. We were called a little more than an hour ago by your manager, Benjamin Radigan, to investigate a theft.”
